Adorned with a freshly minted pip on his collar, Cam moved with purpose through the vibrant corridors of Starbase Bravo. Weeks had passed since he had first received the intriguing offer during his initial week on the starbase, and now it was time to seize the opportunity. In the time since that offer, he had been immersed in an exhilarating whirlwind. He had dedicated his energy to assisting the Security Office during a special investigation, and the Deputy Director of Logistics with out-of-the-ordinary transports. Most notably, he had been an essential cog in the special Taskforce charged with the vital mission of purging the starbase of Borg DNA once and for all.

Yet, today held a special significance, for Cam was on the cusp of reuniting with his newly appointed Commanding Officer, Lieutenant Commander Dawa Vlček. Stepping into the bustling shuttle bay, his eyes quickly homed in on her, engrossed in her PADD, a symbol of her myriad responsibilities. His heart swelled with a mixture of respect and playful anticipation. With a smart salute, Cam reported, a warm smile dancing on his lips, “Commander Vlček, Lieutenant Junior Grade Solari reporting for duty.”

Dawa’s head shot up in surprise, and as she took in the situation, a smile slowly spread across her face.

“Well, it’s about damn time!” she said, gently swatting at his chest with the PADD. Noticing that Cam’s own smile was on the verge of collapsing into snickering, she added, “At ease, Lieutenant.”

She matched his parade rest stance as she properly took in his appearance, particularly the pips on his collar. “Well, it seems it’s been a busy few weeks for you! You’ll have to tell me all about it; I’m sure the reports don’t do it justice. In the meantime…”

Dawa started marching towards the row of bombers at the edge of the hangar and motioned for Cam to follow her.

“I’m taking section T1-A out for a training exercise in the Paulson Nebula later today: six bombers. Tango Leader told me to expect one more pilot, but he didn’t say who! I’ll have to thank him for the surprise later.”

About half a dozen pilots were swarming over their bombers and chatting with each other and the maintenance crew while they waited for their briefing to begin. Dawa called out to them as she approached.

“Alright, Rangers! Our last pilot has joined us! This is Lieutenant Cam Solari. I had the pleasure of flying with him during the Stinsfor rescue mission a few weeks ago. He’s got a hell of a lot of hours in both sky and space, and the skills to show for it. I recommend you ask him about his experience with historical aircraft sometime! But for now, why don’t the rest of you introduce yourselves before we go start the briefing?”

Dawa gestured to the feline fighter pilot standing nearest to her.

A Caitian woman with a cybernetic arm set her PADD down and stood up from the wing of her fighter. “Name’s Lieutenant Junior Grade Shenzi K’Ress, but you’ll probably get to know me by my callsign, Dutchess.” She said, brushing her hair out of her eyes with her cybernetic arm, revealing a large scar across her face. “This girl is my baby, the Crimson Dutchess”. Shenzi motioned towards the blood red fighter sitting behind her on the deck, an empty beverage can sitting on one of the wings. “Pleasure to meet you, Lieutenant.”

Dawa nodded approvingly and turned her attention to the next pilot.

“I’m Ensign Nahuel,” said the young human standing nearest Shenzi. His eyes darted towards her briefly as he continued. “My callsign is ‘Jaguar’ because my name means ‘jaguar’ in Mapudungun, and my first squadron wasn’t very creative with nicknames.”

Towering over Ensign Nahuel was a Kelpien woman. “I’m Lieutenant Raddi,” she said. “Callsign is ‘Bishop’ because I’m not very good at chess. But I’m an ace at high-side phaser passes, so who cares?” she added with a smirk and a shrug.

“Lieutenant Junior Grade Modaw,” said the Bolian standing next to her. “Callsign: ‘Wildcard’,” he added with a wide grin as if that were all that needed to be said. And apparently, it was, as he didn’t continue.

There was the barest flicker of a laugh threatening to show on Dawa’s face as she continued. “And, of course, since this is a bomber squadron, we have our weapons team.”

Dawa turned to the assembled crew of tactical officers and pointed, preparing to introduce them rapid-fire. “Okay, just make a loud buzzer noise if I get your name wrong, but we have Ensign Korrapati, Lieutenant Junior Grade Nyongesa, Lieutenant Laoly, Ensign ch’Thar, Lieutenant Junior Grade T’Kat, and Ensign Palex.”

They all nodded and offered thumbs up or other gestures of approval, and Dawa grinned, pleased with her success. 

Then she turned to Cam with a glint in her eye. “By the way, Solari, do you have a callsign? Or do we have to give you one?”

Cam’s eyes fixated on Dawa, and in that moment, a ‘Callsign’? A profound realization washed over him like a sudden wave. He fervently delved into the depths of his thoughts, his mind racing, but frustratingly, nothing substantial surfaced at all. The ensuing silence grew increasingly uncomfortable, Cam decided to take the initiative in breaking it.

“I-I don’t know,” he admitted with a hint of uncertainty, his brow furrowing in deep thought. “I sure have never had one. I always thought you had to earn one.”

As he spoke, a glint of intrigue danced in his eyes, and a mischievous smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He leaned in a bit closer, the atmosphere between them growing charged with curiosity. “You know, it’s akin to selecting a puppy, or perhaps, allowing fate to choose for you,” he suggested with a playful lilt in his voice.

Dawa laughed. “If by ‘fate’ you mean ‘us’, we’ll be glad to oblige. Right, Rangers?”

A round of laughter and agreement sounded throughout the group. Dawa nodded and slapped Cam on the back. “We’ll have to see you in action first, though. Everyone, follow me to briefing room two! It’s time to get this mission started.”

Hours later, the squad was celebrating their good day’s work in the dim lighting and loud chatter of one of Starbase Bravo’s countless bars.

Dawa took a gulp of her beer, then raised it in Shenzi’s direction. “Lieutenant K’Ress, I already said this in the debriefing, but that was an impressive maneuver around that asteroid. A dossier only tells half the story, so tell me, where’d you learn to fly like that?”

Shenzi raised her Kzinti Absinth back in Dawa’s direction, the beverage giving a disturbing green glow. “Well, I’m actually self-taught for piloting. I grew up on an old Crossfield class and was piloting Workbees when I was a kitten. Also spent a lot of time in the holodeck flying an old human plane called a Raptor,” she replied. “Got good enough that I even did a few dogfights with the holodeck safeties disabled. Captain found out and gave me an ass chewing, as you can probably imagine.” 

Shenzi laughed a little, and took a swig of her beverage, with no visible effect on her despite the fact that Kzinti Absinth was strong enough to put down a Klingon.

Dawa chuckled at the anecdote. “A Raptor, huh? Sounds familiar,” she said, drawling a bit after several beers. “Is that one of the historical craft you ever flew, Cam?” she asked, nudging the lieutenant next to her at the table.

“Yeah, sure, I’ve had the chance to pilot a Lockheed Martin F-22,” Cam replied, his tone intentionally nonchalant. He wanted to impress ‘the squad,’ but the room’s atmosphere, filled with raucous laughter and clinking glasses, wasn’t something he was accustomed to. On top of that, the world around him started to blur, he realized, this definitely wasn’t synthehol.

Cam attempted to toughen up and said, “One time, my Dad and I, we fffflew an Fff-twentfly twlo…” 

Cam noticed he struggled to form the words, his throat felt swollen, he swallowed. 

His eyes swept across the room, locking onto the laughing faces of the squad before him. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, and he nervously swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Cam’s tension released as he finally let out a relieved sigh, the disorienting haze in his mind slowly dissipating.

He cleared his throat, his voice quivering as he continued, “Sorry…” His story pressed on, “We were soaring over San Francisco Bay, nothing trailing us but endless sunshine…”

His eyes widened, and a knot of discomfort twisted in his stomach. A sudden epiphany hit him like a ton of bricks. Cam used his right hand to balance himself, pushing off from the chair, and mumbled, “Excuse me, I’ll be right back.” 

Shenzi watched as he made his escape to the restroom, and smirked. “Someone’s a lightweight,” she said, taking a swig of her green glowing beverage of nearly pure alcohol, and setting it back down. Shenzi produced a pack of cigarettes and a zippo from a cargo pocket on her flight suit. “Y’all don’t mind if I light one, do ya?”

A few around the table shrugged or shook their heads. Ensign Nahuel leaned in closer, apparently mesmerized by the zippo lighter. “Whoa.”

“Pretty cool, huh?” Shenzi said to Ensign Nahuel as she stuck a cigarette in her mouth, and lit it. She slid an empty beer bottle over to herself to stick the butt in later. Shenzi opened her hand, allowing the ensign to get a better look at the design, the letters “US” stuck on the lid, with a winged propeller below it.

Dawa chuckled at his reaction, then stood up. “I’m going to go check on Mr. ”Endless Sunshine” and escort him back to his quarters,” she said, giving an expectant look at the crew.

Lieutenant Modaw was the first to take the hint, and rose from the table. “I’ll help you,” he offered with a grin. “I’m a Bolian, we’ve got strong stomachs.”

Dawa gave him an appreciative pat on the shoulder, then glanced around the table one last time. “Okay, no one else drink so much that you forget today’s briefing. Understood?”

They all raised a toast in response. “Yessir!”